


Soft Lips, Rough Hands

by alocalband



Series: OMGCP Tumblr Ficlets [11]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-16 23:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alocalband/pseuds/alocalband
Summary: Dex begins his Freshman year at Samwell knowing two things with absolute certainty.The first is that Derek Nurse is his soulmate.The second is that Derek Nurse deserves a soulmate who is not Dex.





	Soft Lips, Rough Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr for the [Bitty's Valentines gift exchange.](http://bittysvalentines.tumblr.com/post/170864576322/soft-hands)

Dex begins his Freshman year at Samwell knowing two things with absolute certainty.

The first is that Derek Nurse is his soulmate.

The second is that Derek Nurse deserves a soulmate who is not Dex.

Thankfully, it seems to be one-sided. When they first meet on the tour, Nursey doesn’t even react beyond a coolly raised eyebrow and a judgmental, cursory glance up and down Dex’s body before turning away.

So Nursey may be _it_ for Dex, but that doesn’t mean _he’s_ it for Nursey.

Which is good. Dex shouldn’t be _it_ for anyone.

He’s got too many rough edges, too much fight, and too little patience. He wasn’t built for being around other people peacefully, let alone for being around them _intimately_ , and he’s known that since the moment he learned how to read.

Because even the words written into his skin since birth tell him as much.

He’s never let anyone other than his parents see them, and he doesn’t plan on changing that any time soon. It isn’t difficult to hide, even in the locker room. The words make long, looping lines across the palms of both his hands, and so Dex taught himself from an early age to keep his hands in constant fists.

Of course, it felt all too natural as a kid to then start using those fists. The scars from knuckles split open too many time to count are just one more reminder that Dex isn’t the kind of person who should have a soulmate.

A soulmate is something special. Something that should be treated with better, kinder hands than William Poindexter’s.

He tends to keep all of his fights on the ice now, but the scars still speak for themselves about what kind of person he knows he really is. 

As if the words on his palms weren’t already enough.

 _“Oh good, I hate him already.”_ Nursey’s first thought when they met. The words burned hot the moment it happened, and Dex clenched his fists all the tighter, trying to pretend he was somewhere else. Some _one_ else.

Nursey doesn’t make a show of hiding his own mark, but no one’s really gotten a good look at it. It’s small, and hidden on the inside of his bicep, and half concealed by the tattoo that wraps around the muscle to connect one end of the mark to the other.

Dex tries to keep his distance. He tries to put enough space between them that he has room to get over any emotional connection before it even happens.

But the universe constantly conspires to throw them together despite his best efforts. They get paired up on the hockey team from day one. They find a best friend in the same person and can’t manage to get any of Chowder’s time without the other present. Ransom and Holster insist they sit together on the bus to away games, Lardo insists they share a hotel room...

It all culminates at the end of their sophomore year with the dibs flip. And something inside Dex just... snaps.

Nursey’s hurt feelings in the aftermath of Dex’s breakdown, however, are what finally force Dex to take a step back and reevaluate.

He’s spent so much time, the last _two years_ , fighting to keep his distance, to protect his own heart from wanting what he knows he can’t have, what fate has so cruelly decided to taunt him with close proximity and one-sided connection to, that he hasn’t ever stopped to consider Nursey’s side of things.

Dex may not be _Nursey’s_ soulmate, but he _is_ Nursey’s teammate, and now roommate, and Nursey deserves better.

He deserves the whole damn world, as far as Dex is concerned. And Dex may not be good enough for him, may not get to ever have him, but he can at least try to make Nursey happy. He can, at the very, very least, make sure Nursey doesn’t get hurt again, and most especially not by Dex.

“Hey, Bitty? Can I ask you a question?” Dex finally works up the courage to ask a couple days later.

Bitty looks up from one of the half dozen pies Dex has been helping him make all afternoon. “Of course! What is it, Sweetheart?”

“How do I say ‘I’m sorry’ without, like, making it about me?”

Bitty blinks, caught off guard.

Dex swallows roughly and barrels on. “I just don’t want Nursey to think I’m saying it for my own benefit, or for the sake of my conscience or whatever. I want him to know it’s because he deserves the apology.”

Bitty nods, turning this over in his head for long enough that Dex knows he’s taking it seriously. “Well. I suppose you could do something nice for him? Something that’s just about him. Apologize through your actions, not just your words.”

This sounds like exactly the kind of advice Dex was already leaning towards on his own, and so he does. Or, at least, he tries to. And then he just... doesn’t stop.

It’s like a constant, unspoken apology in everything he does now. Not just for his freak out over the dibs flip, or for his attitude their first two years at Samwell together, but for being the one that Nursey’s been stuck with, however one-sided the connection. An apology for his mere existence, really, put into every kind gesture and earnest action he can think to do.

It’s as much the little things as the big, and he hopes it all adds up to something better than the person he is underneath that apology. He doesn’t just randomly bring Nursey coffee from Annie’s on early mornings or throw Nursey’s laundry in with his own on long weekends--though he does do those things and more--but he also actively tries to see every situation from Nursey’s point of view, to watch his words when in conversation, and to work towards outwardly portraying the kind of person Nursey would feel comfortable sharing space with.

It doesn’t happen overnight. It takes two more years, and probably would’ve taken longer if Dex weren’t quite so single-mindedly determined in his cause.

But, eventually, when Nursey looks at him, it’s with something tentatively joyful in his expression, something hopeful in his eyes.

Dex doesn’t let himself think about it. He just keeps trying to make sure that expression stays there, no matter what.

And then, senior year, the day before graduation, Nursey stops Dex in their bedroom with a hand on his shoulder, and a soft, “Hey.”

Dex swallows and clenches his own hands into familiar fists.

“I want to show you something,” Nursey says, and doesn’t wait for Dex to respond before lifting his arm up and stepping even closer so that Dex can, for the first time, clearly see the words on the inside of his bicep.

There’s just three of them. Small and damning. _“Please god no.”_

Dex can’t breathe. That’s... him. His first thought upon seeing Nursey and feeling the words on his hands start to burn.

“So, the thing is,” Nursey tells him, “that I kind of wanted to hate you before I even met you.”

“I kind of wanted you to hate me, too.”

Nursey smiles. A small, sad little thing. “I know. But I don’t hate you anymore.”

“You should. I’m not...” Not _enough_. Not even close. “You deserve better, alright? No matter what fate thinks. I’m not the kind of person you should get stuck with just because of what’s written on your arm.”

Nursey sighs. And then he reaches out for one of Dex’s closed fists.

He cradles Dex’s hand in both of his, and gently, one by one, uncurls Dex’s fingers to reveal the reddened palm beneath. He runs the pads of his own fingers lightly over the words there. And then he reaches out for Dex’s other hand and does the same thing.

“The kind of person you are... it isn’t decided for you. Your soulmate isn’t either, even with the marks. You have to _work_ for it. You have to try. It’s in your actions and your intentions and how you live each day. And Dex... _Will_.” Nursey catches his gaze with such determined and beseeching eyes that Dex suddenly feels like he’s falling. “You work harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Dex blinks watery eyes and turns his hand over so that he can hold onto Nursey’s. “I-- I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. At least, not for this. I’m not ‘stuck’ with you, Will, _I choose you_. And I’ll try to work just as hard to be the kind of person you need as you do for me.”

The kiss that follows those words is gentle, but still manages to punch the breath out of Dex.

And when they pull away--carefully, slowly, actively dreading ever pulling away more than these few inches ever again--it’s only to lock gazes and silently promise things that neither of them have the words for yet.

“I’ll never stop working,” Dex whispers. “I promise I’ll always try.”

Nursey raises their joined hands and presses soft lips to the scars on Dex’s knuckles. 


End file.
